Like Passing Ships On The Ocean
by reginassthief
Summary: After a difficult birth, Regina develops a fear of pregnancy, birthing, and all things leading up to it. Her and Robin's relationship slowly sinks until they become like passing ships, seeing each other but never having the chance to stop and talk and it begins taking it's toll on the both of them as Regina finds multiple excuses to keep Robin at arms left. Outlaw Queen. Angst.
1. Passing Ships

**I drunk-wrote this feeling extremely tired and being unable to sleep. I warn you, this is probably the worst written thing I've ever done so it'll get a rewrite (reposted to because the edit option doesn't work on my laptop for some reason) and maybe a possible part 2 if ya'll want one. Trigger warning for difficult births (it ain't graphic, just tells it but gotta be careful) Despite it being badly written, I hope you still like it :)**

A knot forms in her stomach, twisting and turning as his kisses grow more insistent. It was supposed to be a good night's kiss, a peck then settling down in his arms, ready to fall asleep. Yet as Regina went to pull away, Robin had chased her mouth, recapturing her lips, his tongue tracing the seam as he tried deepening the kiss.

She couldn't do this.

She pulls her mouth away and he doesn't follow this time, instead he moves downwards, suckling her neck, teeth scraping against sensitive areas.

One time Regina would be moaning at his ministrations, hands catching in his hair, keeping in there. And she tries. Tries focusing on the pleasure, tries stamping down on that anxiety gripping her. But she can't. It's more than anxiety, it's fear.

Faith's birth had been...difficult. They'd managed to find a cure for Regina's infertility yet like most magic, it came with a price- a price Regina didn't realise.

It had all started when the baby was the wrong way around: feet first. With the effort it took to turn Faith around, Regina had already lost a lot of blood and she hadn't the energy to heal herself or even magic the baby the right way around. Her insults had stopped, the first sign that something was wrong and her tight grip on Robin's hand had become relaxed, fingers loosening as her body focused the last of its energy on keeping Regina alive.

To make matters worse, once the baby was the right way around, the cord had become wrapped around its throat and by that time, Regina had become useless, holding onto the last thread of life she had.

Then it turned into a operation. Words like C-section came into play, words Robin was still yet to learn and in a confused and terrified state, he was ushered out of the room, left to watch them cut open his soulmate from a tiny window.

While Faith had become one of the best things to happen to her, Regina had been traumatised by the birth and the thought of sex and the possible chance of pregnancy terrified her.

She places a hand on his chest, that knot tightening and tightening as he makes his way further and further down her body.

"Robin," she says, voice cracking a little. She's stupid. Stupid and pathetic and can't even do simple things like this. "Stop..."

It's instant as always. She never has to ask twice. Says the word once and there he goes, stopping and pulling away from her completely; no last lick, suck, sniff, whatever, just a stop. If the situation was different her heart would be flooding with love for this man.

But it's not.

It's flooding with fear.

Deep, black, horrible fear and wraps it's dark hand around her heart and squeezes until it's all she can feel.

He can tell someone wrong, his finger coming up to stroke her cheek and even that has her letting out a breath, scared.

(She's pathetic. Completely pathetic)

He has to know, though. Has to know what the issue is but he doesn't stay anything, just takes his hand away and she misses his touch in an instant.

"Not that," she says, voice quiet and tiny. "Not tonight."

Not ever. Never again.

He nods, once less glance at her body before laying back down against the pillow. Regina follows quickly afterwards, that anxiety and fear lessening so, thank god and Robin spoons her from behind but unlike in the past, there's no kiss against any part of her body, his hands stay still on her waist, not even stroking a thumb, they're just still.

He does murmur into her ear, however. A soft, "When you're ready." And it hits her what he thinks is wrong. It's been months after Faith's birth (which is what makes her 10x more pathetic) and his doesn't know how women's bodies work, only knows that they can't have sex a few weeks after they've given birth but he doesn't know the exact time, that's what he thinks is wrong.

It's breaks her heart a little that he doesn't know the true reason of why she doesn't want this but she can't exactly blame him, he doesn't know.

Nobody does.

He doesn't try to touch her after that, not for a few weeks and still going but it's taking its toll, on the both of them.

Sex was the perfect release, mostly from stress or when they couldn't sleep and they'd both had a lot of that. Work mainly causing the stress but Roland had reached that age where he was now playing up. Gone was that good boy with the cheeky dimples she'd fallen in love with and was now replaced with this entire different person who tried so hard every day to test the limits of both parents. Faith was causing problems too. She'd recently decided that no, she didn't want to sleep through the night anymore or even go to bed, bursting into wails whenever they entered even a millimetre into her bedroom. It had left both she and Robin tried and miserable. When Faith had finally settled down half two in the morning, it was just perfect that Regina couldn't fall asleep. She'd been the one to initiate the act. They'd make it quite far, actually where all Regina focused on was the pleasure but when it came to *it * she couldn't do it and had ran off to the bathroom, a series of sorry's falling out as she locked herself away, finally breaking down.

They stop trying, ignoring those urges they both had but Regina finds herself lying there, Robin snoring softly beside her with fear keeping her awake. She knows deep down he wouldn't do it, not while she was asleep but what if he had a dream, what if he was frustrated (she was. they never spoke about it, it was a topic they both silently agreed to avoid and just act like a normal, loving couple through the day) then what was she to do?

There's a cry from the next room. Loud. And Robin grunts, turning to face the wall. Regina sighs, guesses since she's awake she may as well sort Faith out and makes her way to the baby's bedroom.

She's hungry- Regina guesses that the reason she woke up in the first place yet even once she's had her fill she doesn't settle. Every time she's placed in the cot there's just a wail. Regina sighs, feeling the fatigue of lack of sleep finally dawning on her and goes to sit in the rocking chair, see if she can soothe Faith that way. Yet when she's about to sit down, she's hot with an idea and takes the baby off to her room.

It surprisingly works, placing Faith down in the middle of the bed. There's no crying and she shuts her eyes immediately, sucking on the pacifier in her mouth.

Regina smiles, carefully lying down next to the child in an attempt not to jostle her, least she wake but she's well away it seems.

Regina shuts her own eyes, wrapping a hand around the tiny thing as that fear melts away. The baby is asleep but most of all, there's a separation between she and Robin.

Though perhaps next time she should give him a heads up. He wakes, precariously close to where Faith is sleeping. Had he rolled over just one more time, the baby would've been squashed beneath him.

"Why was Faith in our bed?" He asks when he finally comes home. That's how it is now. He works, eats at the bar where he works, and comes home when the bar shuts. While Regina looks after a whole town, picks the kids up from school, parents those kids, looks dinner for those kids, baths those kids, and puts those kids the bed. Robin probably wouldn't even come home if not for the fact that there's a bed here.

(That's not fair, Regina tells herself, feeling guilty at the thought. He loves her, this is just a difficult time)

"She won't settle in her own bed." She says and Robin _Oh_ 's and the conversation is left there. Though it becomes flipped now. Regina gets the good night's sleep (as she deserves, she tells herself) and Robin gets the 3 hours, all because Faith likes to take up his side of the bed.

It's the third night he moves out of the bedroom.

He'd came home one night, slamming the door rather forcefully and Regina glares, she'd only just gotten Roland down, the 8 year old insisting that he wasn't tired and Regina knew he'd only just gone down. The last thing she wanted was for Robin being loud to wake him up and start the whole thing over away.

He walks through the front room while Regina is going over some finances with not even hello, just straight to the kitchen to grab a beer, and that's how it is now, they're just like passing ships on the ocean, too busy going their own separate ways to sit and converse with each other.

He renters; the beer in his hand and sits on the one of the chairs, taking a swig of it.

There was a time when they'd lie on the couch together; watching the TV or just talking and now look at them. They're just two people who just so happen to live under the same roof. There's no relationship here, not anymore. That's all gone now. Whatever was salvageable before has now decayed and died.

Regina doesn't even look up at him, just focuses on the pieces of paper in front of her. She feels on edge though. The vibe she's receiving from Robin isn't a good one has it has a slight twinge of anxiousness running through her, making her alert.

"I'm sleeping in Roland's room tonight."

Now that makes her look up. She almost asks why but she knows why, she'd be stupid if she didn't.

"I can't sleep with Faith in the room. I lie there thinking I'm gonna squash her in my sleep."

Regina could fight back. Could say she'll start making Faith sleep in her own bed tomorrow, Thad what she should say but truthfully, she's glad he doesn't want to sleep in her bed anymore and it kills her to think so but now the fear would all be done completely, she wouldn't wake, terrified at the thought of his hardness pressed against her anymore.

The air mattress is thrown down on the floor of Roland's bedroom. Regina watches, handing spare bits of bedding they have and wait as Robin sorts it out.

This is what it's came to, he's already left their bed...how long until he leaves the house? How long until he doesn't come home.

Regina once thought that was the only reason he _did_ come home but now he hasn't even got that. What's to stop him from getting up and just leaving forever?

Once Robin is settled, Regina hops off to bed. It's strange not feeling his presence and while the fear is gone there's a heaviness to her heart. That fear has been replaced by worry, worry that he'll leave.

She doesn't want him to go. She misses him. Misses what they had, the memories they created, the family they had. They're nothing but strangers now, two people who share children and that's all. She misses all those domestic moments they had, the laughs they shared. She's grieving someone who isn't even dead and he could be, too.

She knows, lying there, that she has to do something about what their relationship has become. They needed help. _She_ needed help.


	2. Passing Ships Part Two A

**Part of the Passing Ships verse. This is part A of part 2 and now I've turned this verse into four parts or perhaps 3 with two split parts. Idk I'm just wasting time. Anyway, I hope you like this mini part A :)**

She knows something has to changed when Faith's first birthday is just the tree of them.

It's an effort not to feel angry, not to feel bitter that he's chosen work over his daughter's first ever birthday. He told her that that day was a busy day at the bar; there was stock being delivered that day, a party reservation also on that day and that meant in the afternoon the bar would be packed full. He couldn't get the time off. Couldn't get the time off the place that _he_ owned.

She's too tired to argue anymore. It's all they seem to do. Mostly about Faith still being in Regina's bed, yet the child was no issue to her. So long as that pillow stayed between the two and the bed was always pushed right up against the wall, Regina had no worries to squishing Faith or Faith falling out. Robin just mumbles he wants his bed back.

She hates it when people mumble.

If people are going to speak to her, then they can speak up and actually say things to her face. Which starts another argument...

She has no idea how the hell it got like this. Through fighting off villains and curses, they hadn't had the time to be that active, yet now that they seem to have all the time in the world suddenly, it's starting to take its toll.

Regina knows all relationships go through dry-spells, but one as bad as this seems to be?

And to make matters worse, Roland's picking up on it. He's eight; no longer the absent-minded little boy that anything could get past. He's became to notice how distant his father has become, how every day and every activity is spent with Regina, but he only gets half of Regina's attention because the other half- or more- is spent on tending to Faith.

Now he'll barely listen to Regina. Whenever Robin's around, he'll try to gain his attention- good or bad, attention is attention after all. He'll kick things, have tantrums, scream, ignore Regina, grab Faith's legs to stop her from crawling places, knock Faith over when she's holding the edge of the couch to pull herself up (something she's learned surprisingly quickly) Even when Regina tries to insert authority, to get Roland to listen a few _You're not my mother. I don't have to listen to you_ 's have been thrown into the mix.

It's shattering and heartbreaking and reminds her of another time with another boy who's now away at college. She powers on through it, though. Repeating for what feels like the hundredth time today to _Stop bouncing_. _Stop throwing things_. _Be quiet_. _Just listen_...She's like a broken record, looking over to Robin for help but getting nothing in return. It's exhausting and frustrating, even more so when help is there but they're not doing anything _to_ help.

Yet she waits until the night of Faith's birthday, when she knows both she and Roland are down for the night. She pads her way into the front room to where Robin's sitting watching TV, lowering the sound down now the wails, screaming, shouting, and overall battle that is bedtime is over with.

She shouldn't be feeling this. All this pent us nervousness; it's Robin, they've had countless conversations from nothing to everything, but they haven't in the past months and now he feels like a stranger, that she's talking to someone for the first time.

Still, she takes in a breath, sitting herself down on the same couch (something else that hasn't happened in months) sitting down on the edge of that couch but it's the same couch, a start, at least? She sees the way his eyes glance her way, he knows she wants to talk, despite feeling apart for weeks, they still know when the other once to have a conversation, strange. So he lowers the volume down to almost mute, sighs and turns to face her.

Now that he's facing her, Regina realises the distance between them. Wasn't it normally this time of night she'd be snuggled against him, talking about the day they had regardless whether it was apart or together. With a pang, she feels herself missing those moments. Those moments when she wasn't afraid of him touching her, those moments when her heart didn't flutter in fear at every move he made. Perhaps getting the infertility potion lifted off her was more a curse than a blessing. Sure, they have Faith, someone Regina's sure the _both_ of them love and she wouldn't change anything but she'd also have her and Robin's relationship back; her and Roland's relationship back, the dimpled smiles and the _Mommy_ s, not the endless fights and _Your not my mother_ s. Yet the only way she's going to get both those relationships back is if she talks, if _they_ talk, something they suddenly seem incapable to do anymore.

"I think we should see someone," she says. "Figure out what _this_ is."

Robin frowns, "So you think there's a problem?"

She could almost laugh. "Of course there's a problem," she says with a scoff. "Look at us. We can barely form a conversation anymore."

Robin sighs, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, handing rubbing together.

"So, what, like...couple's therapy?"

It sounds stupid saying it aloud but yes, that is what she was getting at. So he nods, shuffling a little closer and ignoring the fake alarm bells going off. There's nothing to fear...

"Don't you miss it?" Her hand glides over to his, running along his wrist, the tattoo that marks him as hers, sliding into the palm he has opened, fitting perfectly. " _Us?_ "

They're closer now. Closer than they've been in months and he looks towards her, one little movement will have their noses touching but he turns away, giving her hand a squeeze- a small gesture making a little smile flicker across her face and warmth running through her.

"We can try," he says, still holding onto her hand. "Maybe talking will do us some good."


End file.
